Captive No Longer
by SongBirdie
Summary: After months as a captive of war, Ziva takes matters into her own hands. Everyone must learn to live with the consequences of her desperate action. Spoilers for Aliyah, A.U.!
1. Chapter 1

**Part One**

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS; it is the property of its respective creators. I do, however own the plotline. Enjoy!

Author's Note: This is a one-shot that is split into three parts. It is told from Ziva's point of view, with spoilers for Aliyah.

The author would like to thank her beta reader, Satan- Wears- Prada, for all her help, you rock!

What gave you the right to sign me over to die? I am alone, with no protector to come riding in on a white horse, his shiny and deadly sword in hand. There will be no such knight coming, not after the venom I spit at him melted his heart of any love for me.

I do not cry. Such emotion is weakness. One of the few things I've never been called is weak. I doubt that now. My body betrays me, showing the dreaded signs of tiring, telling my captors they are wearing down my defenses.

I have lost count of the days I have been their prisoner. It is always dark in this cell, and my tied down body no longer fights, my heart is empty and my soul yearns to be free.

My chance comes when my captors are training a new recruit; when he makes the mistake of keeping his weapon in reach. A small dagger, half the length of my arm, it will do nicely.

As he turns to leave, I strike, grabbing the dagger, and before he can stop me, I slit my throat. I have time only to think that those who never been the captives of war, will not understand. Understand that I have been waiting for someone to relieve me of my role as a chess piece, since the day my mother and sister died.

They had been, respectfully, my protector and my ray of sunshine in a life where I was never enough. They call to me, telling me to join them. That they have been waiting for me. Ari is with them, not the monster he became, but the boy he was, with his mother beside him. My fallen friends and colleagues are in the back round. I spot Jenny smiling gently down on me, telling me to let go.

Mother looks serene, more than she ever did in life, the worry lines are gone from her face. She is finally peaceful, and she wants the same for me. Tali is radiating so much pure light, I have to fight not to shield my eyes. Ari is hand in hand with his mother, he looks more peaceful than he ever looked in life. He is asking me to come away from the pain, to be out of our father's grip, once and for all. Hosmiya Haswari is beside him smiling her encouragement, saying the same. Jenny looks so relaxed, she simply says, her eyes shining with love, "Let Go, Ziva."

My breathing is shallow and sparse, the pain subsiding, and the urge to close my eyes for good is outweighing my inbred instinct to survive. I smile glad I'm finally on my way. I close my eyes and am surrounded by white light and warm welcomes.


	2. Part Two

**Part Two **

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS; it is the property of it respective creators. **

I am weeping, heart wrenching sobs, looking down on those I left behind, believing I would never see them again. That is why I gave up, because I knew they were not coming for me.

I have only been on this sandy beach for a few minutes, a place of comfort from my childhood, and they decided to come for me now. They are here to rescue me, and they are too late by only minutes. Oh, only just minutes for my body, but a lifetime for my soul.

Jenny has wrapped her arms around me, whispering how it isn't anyone's fault. Kate is kneeling in front of me, holding my hand. When Jenny is not trying to sooth me, Kate is thanking me for all I did for them, and how she is sorry to meet under these circunstances. Paula simply watches, having decided to leave the comfort to her more emotion oriented friends. My family remains on the side lines, knowing this is a job for those who know the people that meant so much to me, who meant so much to them as well.

The comforting words and soothing sounds do nothing to calm the ache I feel when I see my former teammate's faces as they realize they just missed their chance to save me. Tony looks like he is fighting tears and he has turned away from my body. Gibbs suddenly morphs into what he really is, a man who has lost too much of his heart and more is now gone, broken. McGee can not pull his eyes away from my body; I can see his mind trying to tell him it is a trick, a decoy, that the real me will walk out any second. I do not however and his faces changes, it now has the expression of what one looks like when they lose a piece of their heart.

I wish I had known, wish that there was a way to tell them they didn't fail me. My father is the one who failed me, he failed us all, and I will spend the rest of his miserable haunting him.

I regret that this is the way they will remember me, dead, my throat cut open, by my own hand out of desperation. I will keep watch over them; try to make sure that they do not follow me here anytime soon. First, though, something to let them know I am okay.


	3. Part Three

**Part Three **

Today is my funeral. I had it put in my will that I was to be buried among NCIS's fallen, not Mossad's. It is a sunny day, which is mocking to those attending, who feel so pained and guilty.

I watch as the team speaks. Gibbs saying that he loved me like a daughter, how he will always carry the guilt of my death on his heart, his whispered words that he has now lost two daughters.

Tony is struggling not to break down. He simply says that he loved me, and he will never forgive himself for not telling me. Another person he has loved and lost too soon, he remarks sadly. A tear trails down his cheek, as he asks for me to look out for his mom, tell Jenny he's sorry, and kiss Paula and Kate for him.

McGee stands proud, saying I was an inspiration to him, to never give up, that has not changed, he adds, and the world has lost a great ally, he has lost a great ally. I have never been prouder of him.

Ducky seems so old, standing up on the stage, saying he will miss our tea times, how much he respected my discipline, that he so tired of doing autopsies on friends, and to tell mother hello for him.

Abby is crying too hard to say much, and the few things she does say are barely eligible. She half sobs, half wails, that she misses me, she is sorry that we got off on the wrong foot, and to hug the whole group now up there.

I do not know what anyone else says, I have stopped listening. I notice that my father is not in attendance. As the last speaker stops talking and the crowd marches outside, all those gathered together to see my body off, are sprinkled with a light cleansing drops of rain, cleaning away their sorrows.

As my family looks up, smiling, I smile back content to move on, knowing we're all where we need to be.

Valerie Portolano

June 16, 2009


End file.
